


Forger's dream

by FalseCamaro (Gandalfgirl579)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, Choking, Dubious Consent, Extreme angst, M/M, Prokopinsky, Rough Sex, Smut, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 18:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12304983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/FalseCamaro
Summary: "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out just as easy."Beneath him on the bed, his wrists bound together with his own belt and held protectively against his chest, Proko bit his lip.This dreamt-up Proko, K realized,was afraid.





	Forger's dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diglossia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diglossia/gifts).



"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out just as easy."

It was a cliché, K knew, but it was entirely true.

Beneath him on the bed, his wrists bound together with his own belt and held protectively against his chest, Proko bit his lip.

This dreamt-up Proko, K realized, _was afraid_. 

The real Proko had never been afraid of him, not for a second. This Proko was softer, more malleable than the real one. The real Proko had had a stubborn streak, a willfull spark that never failed to catch K off guard.

K missed it, and he sneered at the copy, lips curled back, "You scared, baby?"

 The dream-Proko nodded.

" _Say it_."

Though it flinched, the dream said, in Proko's voice, "You're scaring me, Joey." It cried out when K backhanded it, tears welling up in its too-pale eyes, lower lip trembling.

" _Don't call me that_."

It was a command.

The real Proko would have shuddered and moaned at the sting, and then paid the order no heed.

The copy, though, simply nodded, eyes meekly averted.

Leaning forward, supporting himself with a hand beside Proko's head, K slid the other into sandy locks, pulling a bit to the side, forcing Proko to look at him.

"Why are you doing this?" Proko's voice was soft and watery, his lips quivering as he spoke.  "I thought you loved me."

A scoff, and K spat, "I loved _him_. You're just a toy that looks like him." K glanced down to where he was buried to the hilt in his own dream, and Proko squirmed a bit, bruise-littered thighs tightening around K's hips. "You're not even good for a fuck, are you?"

They'd both gone soft ages ago, and Proko flushed, innocent and startlingly pretty for a boy who wasn't very pretty at all. 

"If you can't even fuck," K hissed, his fingers tugging at sandy hair, "why should I keep you around?"

Proko wet his bitten-bloody lip, then softly, he said, "Because I'm perfect." There was no arrogance in his voice; His perfection was a simple fact. "You made me perfect."

Giving Proko's throat a squeeze, K spat, "You're not."

When he pressed his hips forward, Proko whimpered, hands tight to his chest, his eyes on K's, damp and far too pale to be human.

"Feel good?" It came on a sneer.

His voice vibrating up K's arm, Proko murmured, "It hurts."

"He liked it when it hurt."

The dream Proko simply nodded again, meekly averting his eyes and swallowing a little moan when K pressed deeper.

"Y'know, if I do this..." K pressed his thumb into the hollow between Proko's collarbones. "It won't hurt anymore."

A flash of panic, and Proko managed, his voice a shivery whisper, "You wouldn't"

"Oh?" K sunk his thumbnail into the softness of Proko's throat, grinding his hips forward. 

"You wouldn't hurt me." 

He sounded oddly sure of himself, and K squeezed tighter.

"Anyone else, you would." Proko's voice was a harsh whisper, his words coming between shallow, gasping breaths. "But _not me_."

K squeezed harder, and Proko's bound hands came to his wrist, his pale eyes wet and pleading.

"Joey." He was practically begging, and K's cock twitched inside him. "You love me."

"I loved _him_."

Proko shuddered, hands scrabbling against K's wrist.

"You're nothing." K shifted to wrap his other hand around Proko's throat, resting all his weight on it, thumbs sliding bitten-down nails down along his windpipe. "You aren't even human." 

"Joey..." 

" _Dream thing_." It was an accusation.

"Jo--"

"You're a monster." K shivered as he watched the dream Proko's eyes roll back. "You're a monster, just like me."

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a gift for Diglossia, who challenged me to write some really dsrk, gritty prokopinsky. Is possibly the darkest fic I've ever written
> 
> It hurt to write it, man. I don't like K being mean to Proko, but, hey, challenge met!
> 
> Excited for more fics? Have constructive criticism or even just silly comments to add? Let me know! And as always, I must mention that I go by [pr0ko](http://pr0ko.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr, and I'm totally open to taking questions and comments and requests and prompts there! :) Hit me up!


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